


"Discussion"

by just_j



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, F/M, Kuroo is a sex god but also a dork, Reader-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, akaashi doesn't take anyones shit, bokuto and akaashi are together, i have zero shame, surprise!daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 21:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20346943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_j/pseuds/just_j
Summary: When you jokingly let slip the phrase, "Fuck me Daddy", Kuroo gives you exactly what you asked for.(hint: it's sex)





	"Discussion"

**Author's Note:**

> A request from a reader after my own heart: this is probably so tired as a concept but I mean KUROO W A FEM READER ANNNNNND A DADDY KINK and to make it unique UH like maybe she makes the mistake of calling him daddy as a joke in earshot if others and everyone’s just like “oh you two” but Kuroo’s like “EXCUSE me?” & has a lengthy discussion with her about it. by lengthy discussion I mean sex. alright time to leave

Another semester in the books, activities are dwindling down in favor of summer break beginning, filled with promises of no tests or studying until next year. And while the volleyball club never really takes a ‘break’ they do take the time to celebrate another year gone by and throw the annual volleyball banquet. You’ve been excited for months because you missed it last year due to studying for a test.

Though you’re not too excited standing alone in the banquet hall waiting for Kuroo and the rest of the team since they’re running late from practice. You hate awkwardly standing around waiting for him and the team that this whole event is _for_, especially since you don’t know a lot of people currently in attendance.

You might have been stewing about the whole ordeal, but the wait was definitely worth it getting to watch his entrance. Particularly getting to watch many other girls’ eyes land on him while his land on _you_. And it helps that you about drop dead at the sight of him. He’s a comically massive goon, but you’d think he’s some lady killer in that fitted suit he’s wearing, accentuating _every_ physical part about him that you like.

Approaching him and the rest of the team, you’re greeted by Bokuto and Akaashi, the former looking like he could bust out of his suit any minute if he flexes a little too hard. A long arm wraps around your middle as you poke fun, “Honestly I thought you all might just show up in your uniforms.”

Kuroo gives you a cat-like smile, one that easily turns you into a puddle, and remarks, “What? Not looking forward to spending the night keeping all my admirers at bay?”

“Oh, trust me, you’ll do that all on your own the minute you open that pretty mouth of yours,” you snort, earning you a rare amused smile from Akaashi. If you’re ever blessed with one of those you tuck whatever you’ve said away into the ‘approved by Akaashi’ folder of your brain and deem it a success.

Kuroo just grins and takes you by the hand to lead you over to your table, Bokuto and Akaashi following close behind. “You look really nice, by the way,” he murmurs in your ear, warm breath ghosting across your bare skin sending goosebumps pebbling down your arms.

You’re glad to be walking in front of him so he doesn’t see your cheeks flush at his words. He’s got quite the knack for noticing that kind of thing and then laying it on _real_ thick until you’re bright red and outright stammering at him to cut it out.

The moment you all get to the table, he and the others are immediately whisked away to stand on the stage so the banquet can finally start. You’re overwhelmed with pride watching him stand amongst his teammates and listen to the coach say such nice things about all of them, reminiscing on the season, and already getting fired up for the next set of matches. You really admire how much Kuroo loves volleyball and how hard he works at it. It inspires you to put the same amount of effort into your own endeavors.

And it’s particularly fun telling Kuroo that fact, making him get all flustered like _he _loves to make _you_.

After the opening words, the banquet is low-key; chatting with everyone at the table, eating good food, and just enjoying yourselves. All the team members get a silly ‘award’ that the captains made up for them, Kuroo receiving ‘god of cat-like reflexes’ which makes you laugh like an idiot and throw a roll at him just to see if he lives up to the title.

Once everything on the formal itinerary is finished, the event becomes a bit more relaxed; the dancefloor at the venue opens up and quickly fills with students ready to celebrate the end of yet another year of school. Bokuto already drags Akaashi halfway to the dancefloor, Akaashi clearly pretending to look uninterested, but it won’t be long after Bokuto starts dancing will Akaashi loosen up. It’s hard not to around the endless child-like excitement Bokuto radiates.

You stand, extending an inviting hand to Kuroo, who surprisingly grimaces muttering, “Hold on, I gotta get out of this fucking coat.”

He stands, finagling long limbs out of his suitcoat and _god_—you suck in a breath at his well-fitted button up showing off the lines of muscle in his arms, nor were you expecting him to be wearing _suspenders_ which really sends you over the edge. Without even taking a moment to think about the implication of it, you say, “Oh—fuck _me_, daddy.”

Kuroo makes a small choking noise, even though you mostly meant it as a harmless joke, despite the color currently blooming across your neck. It helps that across the room you hear Bokuto’s telltale hoot of laughter at your words, making what you’ve said a little less weird.

You startle at Kuroo’s eyes snapping up to meet yours, an expression in their golden hue that embarrassingly makes heat pool in your core. “Wh—_what did you just say_?”

He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you all night, and _definitely_ hasn’t been thinking about all the ways he’s going to peel that dress off you later. But the second _that_ word comes out of your mouth, any blood he has left rushes unexpectedly to his crotch making his pants uncomfortably tight.

“It was just a joke!” You splutter, realizing he took the words more seriously than you meant them. “You just look really good!” You’re pinned by his stare, unable to look away from the heat of his gaze. Did he…_like _that? Your eyes widen with realization as he takes your hand and begins leading you away from the crowd of people congregated on the dance floor.

“I’ll give you what you want,” he says lowly with a sort of dark promise laced between the words. _Fuck_—he might be an enormous dork but when he wants to, he can make you so utterly powerless against him it’s not even funny.

Even so you whisper angrily, “Wait, wait—Kuroo! Not _here_!” The wetness between your legs betraying you and contradicting your own words. You’re not even struggling against him.

He smirks, ensnaring you even deeper in his net. “Yes, _here_. You asked for it.” He yanks open the door to the (thankfully) single restrooms, immediately pinning you against the now closed door, his lust and need getting the better of him. “Since someone couldn’t wait till we got home,” he murmurs, hiking your legs around him and bunching that intoxicating dress at your waist.

“I—I can wait!” You protest. “_You’re_ the one who dragged me in here!”

Smiling devilishly, he reaches down between you to press two fingers against your sinfully wet underwear. “You can?” He asks playfully, rubbing soft circles against your clothed core, eliciting an unwarranted mewl of pleasure to escape you. Legs trembling, you grip his suspenders, toying with the idea of letting him do what you so desperately want: Kuroo fucking you in that goddamn suit in the bathroom at his _volleyball banquet_.

“Answer me,” he commands, his fingers slowing to an insufferable pace.

You groan, tipping your head back against the door to try and think rationally if you should let this go any farther. Though that only allows Kuroo access to latch onto your neck, at which point your last thread of self-control snaps. “Fuck—_fuck_, no I can’t wait.”

He rumbles with pleasure, rutting himself against you, letting you feel just how much he can’t wait either. “Tell me again,” he murmurs into your skin, teeth brushing near the sensitive juncture of your neck and shoulder and rough fingers rubbing small circles around your hipbones.

Lacing your fingers through his dark hair, you tell him softly, “Fuck me.”

His grip tightens on your hips and now he leans so his forehead is resting on your shoulder, his unruly hair tickling your neck. He takes a deep breath, hiding his face so you can’t see the redness of his cheeks at how ridiculous he feels. “No,” he says so quietly you can barely hear him. “_Exactly_ like you did before.”

Oh—so you were right. He _did_ like it.

You hope he doesn’t feel the grin stretching across your lips at his request, deciding that if he likes it so much, might as well give him all you’ve got. So, you sink into his embrace, letting your core press right against his clothed cock and bring your lips to his ear. “Fuck me, _daddy_.”

His reaction is almost immediate, his entire body tenses and he lets loose an almost animalistic hiss. He didn’t know just how much hearing your voice saying something like that could turn him on. Hefting you higher so you’re basically wrapped around his torso, he moves to set you down on the sink counter instead of pressed against the door.

Slipping your panties off, you wince at the sting of the cold counter on your bare ass, but then Kuroo is upon you. Hands roaming where they please, settling to massage the skin of your thighs while he fervently kisses you, groaning into your mouth when you open up for him. “God you’re so hot,” he sighs, fingers teasing closer and closer to the apex of your thighs with each caress of his hands.

“Daddy please,” you whimper, really playing up what seems to be getting him off so much.

His fingers clench deeper into the flesh of your thighs, so dangerously close to where you’re aching for him to touch you. “Fucking hell you’re going to be the death of me.”

You give him a coy smile that nearly drives him through the roof. Looking up at him through eyes lidded with lust you say, “But I asked so politely.” He has to grit his teeth and stare at the ceiling to get some sort of grip on himself, losing it completely when he feels your fingers tracing down his torso and landing on the _very_ prominent bulge of his trousers.

His breath hitches as you unclip his suspenders holding the front of his pants, then unbutton and unzip them with such practiced ease. You let your fingers brush against his twitching cock every so often making him hiss with each instance of brief contact. He moans your name when you finally delve your hands into his boxers and wrap your hand around his throbbing erection and shifts his hips so he can thrust into your hand.

Whining when you withdraw, you shut him up by tugging his pants and boxers down around his ankles and lining him up with your entrance. There’s really no need to wait, he already has you slick and painfully needy. He leans over you, bracing his forearms on either side of the counter as he moves his hips forward, easing himself slowly into you, relishing every inch of your walls clamping down around him. It does him totally in watching your eyes roll back into your head, mouth open in a silent moan, panting at how good he feels inside you.

He rocks his hips slowly, pulling almost completely out before pushing back in deeply to the hilt, provoking a moan from you that you try to stifle behind your hand. It’s not long before he sets up a pace that has you gripping at his shoulders to keep yourself grounded and he has to cover your mouth with his own, so you don’t let out embarrassingly loud moans damning the both of you. The added thrill that you’re doing this while your classmates unknowingly mingle just beyond the door is only serving to heighten your pleasure and the fact you’re both still half clothed is strangely turning you on as well.

“Such a naughty girl,” he scolds, gripping your hips tight enough he’ll probably leave marks for him to worship and soothe tomorrow. “Calling me that in front of our friends.” You whimper at the merciless slamming of his hips against yours, hitting a spot deep inside you that makes your eyes fly open, a strangled gasp leaving your lips.

God, he’s driving you mad from this angle. You can clearly see his damp hair sticking to his forehead, flushed cheeks, and arms trembling from the force he’s holding on to you—and to top it all off, watching _him_ hungrily watch the space where your bodies meet is just about the most erotic thing you’ve ever seen.

“But look at you.” His golden eyes meet yours, pupils blown wide from lust; a large hand cupping the back of your head to tip your attention to where his cock is sliding so easily in and out of you. “Taking me so well like such a good girl.” Your toes curl at his praising tone and subconsciously you thank yourself for letting that little joke slip earlier because it led to _this_. Who knew it would set Kuroo off?

He reaches between you, sliding two fingers through your slick folds halting at the apex to circle your clit infuriatingly slow; so at odds with the brutal pace he’s thrusting with. Overwhelming pleasure washes over you at the simultaneous stimulation, thighs shuddering with the effort to keep your orgasm at bay. Smirking, he presses firmly against your clit, rolling his hips and murmuring, “Do you want to cum?”

You shamelessly nod vigorously. “Please—_please_,” you stammer through the ungodly sensation of his hips stilling momentarily before drawing back and slamming into you again. “Fuck! God yes, please—Tetsu,” you’re babbling nonsense now, desperate for the edge you’re so close to tumbling over.

Between his relentless fingers and thrusts, it’s not long before you reach your breaking point. Back arching, pleasure tumbling through you in waves, sighing his name over and over like a prayer, you shatter into a million blinding white pieces in his embrace. He doesn’t even give you the chance to put yourself back together, fucking you through your orgasm chasing his own release.

Hot breath against your ear, he’s muttering sweet nothings to you, telling you how good you feel, and you love that you can make him just as much of a mess as he makes you. Tangling fingers in his hair, you bring his ear to your lips and whisper to him, “Cum for me daddy.”

That seems to do the trick, his grip tightening around you, hips stuttering and stilling as his own orgasm crashes through him. “Oh _fuck_,” he sighs breathlessly once he’s spent, taunt body relaxing against you, leaning to rest his damp forehead on your shoulder. You stay like that for a few minutes, both panting heavily coming down from your high, content to be in each other’s arms while you do so.

He pulls out, giving you a deep, loving kiss as he does so and grunting at the stiffness in his legs, a lazy smile spreads across his lips. “Mmm,” he hums, pressing another kiss to your lips. “So, what’s our alibi? Bad shrimp?”

You bark out a laugh, shoving his shoulder gently. He really can switch from that ovary-melting demeanor to his normal bad joke self at the drop of a hat. “A good explanation for how…damp we look,” you say holding out a hand for him to give you back your underwear he discarded somewhere on the floor.

“You think anyone will believe us?” He chuckles, tugging his pants back up and refastening his suspenders. Lucky for him he can just run a few hands through his hair and it’s back to its usual bedhead look, while you have to take a bit more time to straighten yourself out.

“Not for even a second,” you grouse. “I’m not really in the mood to give a shit though.” Then you peer up at him, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. “So…_daddy_, huh?”

He makes a face and takes your head between his heads to stare down at you, saying, “I swear to fucking god, do _not_ tell _anyone_ about that.” You smirk mischievously, making a zipping motion across your lips. Tipping his head back he groans, “Oh no what have I done?”

Taking his hand in yours, you brazenly open the door to head back to the banquet telling him, “Don’t worry. That little tidbit about Kuroo Tetsurou is for me and _only_ for me.” You give him as innocent of a smile as you can, getting the rare treat of seeing him publicly look flustered.

Upon returning to the main hall, Bokuto waves animatedly from the edge of the dancefloor. “Hey where did you guys go? You missed the best song!” Bokuto pouts.

Kuroo glances at you. “We uh,” he clears his throat. “Had something to…discuss.” Then shoots you a wink that makes your cheeks heat and brings to your attention the delicious ache of your thighs.

“Nobody believes that,” Akaashi says bluntly, prompting Bokuto to gripe his name loudly. You just give him a sheepish grin and shrug before dragging Kuroo out onto the dancefloor, tucking the discovery you made tonight in your back pocket for another time.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on Tumblr @ haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles (I post there first most of the time)


End file.
